


The Secret of Anders Johnson

by QueenUndertheBloodyMountain



Series: A Vampire and a God Walk Into a Bar.. [1]
Category: Being Human (UK), The Almighty Johnsons
Genre: Christmas Fluff, Cuties, Domestic Fluff, Fluff, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-06-19
Updated: 2014-06-19
Packaged: 2018-02-05 06:26:58
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,541
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1808659
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/QueenUndertheBloodyMountain/pseuds/QueenUndertheBloodyMountain
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Mitchell hadn't been able to see his face since he was in the war, eighty years of being undead made sure he was accustomed to every empty mirror and reflection he passed. That is, until Anders decides to do something about it</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Secret of Anders Johnson

**Author's Note:**

> No beta, I don't own the characters, etc, etc. Enjoy!

When he and Anders woke up, Mitchell was still a bit awed to see the few presents tucked underneath their pitiful little tree he and the blonde had set up a couple weeks before. There were a few presents for him and Anders from Dawn, which they had expected honestly, and even ones for them from Axl and Zeb, Ty, Olaf, and Ingrid. He even found a small envelope from Stacy marked for him and Anders both. And of course the ones he had out there for his god of a boyfriend. Neither one of them ever expected gifts from Mike or Michelle, the two were both still very prejudice about Mitchell and Anders’ relationship, a shared opinion they voiced often.

The presents were still a shock for him though, especially the two labeled from Anders. Mitchell slowly reached out to grab one only to have his hand smacked away.

"Breakfast first you egg," Anders chided, "Then you get presents"

"Alright Mr. Grinch," he laughed, pinching Anders' naked ass. "But we should put pants on at least, we don't want you burning your cock while cooking the bacon again do we?" He teased, wrapping his arms around Anders' waist from behind and nipping his shoulder playfully.

"Fuck you! You were the one that distracted me. And I damn well did _not_ cry like you keep trying to tell everyone, you prick." He pouted.

"Come off it darlin'," Mitchell purred into the god's shoulder, nuzzling and kissing the tanned skin, "It's not a shame to admit you got a bit teary about it, sure as hell woulda made me cry, that’s for damn sure.”

When breakfast was done, and both men had cleared away the dishes—or, more specifically, Anders dumped them in the sink for later—they gathered all the little packages from under the crappy little tree and sat on the couch to open them. They tore into the presents with as much enthusiasm and excitement as children, ripping into the wrappings and even throwing the balled up papers at each other, giggling like mad men.

Mitchell received a large book on Norse Gods and mythology from Axl and Zeb, a kettle and assorted teas from Dawn (since Anders had no idea which end of a kettle was even up), a bottle of Irish whiskey from Ty, a tin of baked goods from Ingrid (hopefully dope free), and a signed Beatles album from Olaf in lieu of a running joke between the ageless men.

The envelope from Stacy held a pair of rather good tickets to see a local play; they both admitted they were probably going to hate it, but Mitchell insisted they'd use them, to be polite if nothing else.

Anders had received a rather large book if poetry from Axl and Zeb—grumbling that they both obviously thought themselves clever little shits—a prepaid card to a rather nice aquarium store in town from Ty ("Fucker killed my fish once, glad he's finally paying up"), a leather bound planner from Dawn, baked goods from Ingrid too, and a photo album full of pictures featuring him, Olaf, and his brothers while they were all growing up; they reminded him of the happier times from his childhood, before god shit and terrible fucking parents got in the way of things. 

Finally they turned to each other's presents, having saved the best for last.

Mitchell opened one to find a long black velvet box with a beautiful braided leather bracelet inside, the leather was black and soft with a silver plate in the middle with what had to be Norse letters engraved into it.

"The metal is white gold so it won't hurt you, and the letters are Norse, they spell out your name, mine is spelled out on the inside of it." Anders explained, a light pink tint flushing his cheeks.

Mitchell could only stare at it for a second. He can’t remember having received something so intimate and personal since before he died, he wasn't sure how to respond.

"If you don't like it we can exchange it for something else. I just thought—"

Mitchell effectively cut him off with a strong kiss, twining his fingers through the blonde's sleep mussed hair and stealing his breath away.

"I absolutely love it; I was just shocked is all. It's mine now and you can't have it back." He teased, pecking Anders on the mouth one more time before putting it on and turning towards the remaining present. It was almost rectangular if it hadn’t been for the odd lump on top. He tore it open to find the full seasons of The Real Hustle and some new fingerless gloves on top, making him laugh again.

Mitchell kissed Anders again in thanks and waited for the god to open the presents from John. Anders tore open the first to find a large box of aquarium decorations for his tank—Mitchell confessing to having conspired with Ty a bit on that one—and earned a punch to his arm when he told Anders his tank was "bloody depressing without anything else” and that it was “ surprising the fish didn't commit suicide by tossing themselves into the glass from boredom". Finally Anders turned to the last gift, a small, simply wrapped package from the brunette. He opened it carefully, automatically guessing it was significant, and found himself looking at Mitchell's dog tags.

"I know it's not as fancy as the bracelet you got me, but I wanted to give you something personal from me, from before the whole undead shit and all." Mitchell stammered, picking at his fingernails and avoiding the blonde’s eyes.

"I love them John," Anders said, bumping foreheads lightly with the vampire. "Thank you. However, I have one more present for you."

"But, I only got you two darlin'."

"Don't worry about it, I've been working on it for a while now and I just happened to finish up the last one in time for today. Didn't see any point in waiting for your birthday." He laughed, jumping up and hurrying over to their tiny tree. He pulled out one last gift from the back, hidden well away from prying eyes and curious fingers, and sat back down next to Mitchell. He paused for a second, thinking for a moment, before handing it to his boyfriend. 

It was a simple sketchbook, a little worn around the edges and with a slight crease on one corner of the cardboard cover. Mitchell looked at him questioningly before flipping to the first page; he found at a beautifully drawn portrait of his face. The first drawing was of him taking a sip of a beer, probably from Mike's bar, a small smile on his lips and his eyes crinkling just a little. The next one was him laughing, head thrown back and curls a little wild from what looked like rain, that was the second time he'd met Anders, the god making him laugh with his crappy one liners and easy jokes. The third of him sleeping, looking peaceful in a way he imagined he just didn't look while he was awake, and certainly not around anyone else but the blonde sitting next to him. Page after page were filled with various pictures of him, some of him taking a drag off a cigarette, him groggily sipping coffee after just hauling himself out of bed, even one if him sleeping again, this time with his head on Anders' lap, curls sticking out every which way and a hand curled around Anders' thigh beneath his cheek. He was absolutely speechless, not having seen himself in over eighty years, and especially not through the eyes of someone who so clearly loved him.

After what seemed like an age, for both men, he finally looked up at Anders, eyes just a bit wet and mouth hanging open.

"Anders I...these are gorgeous," Mitchell rasped, voice thick with emotion, "I had no idea you could even draw."

"Yea well it's definitely something I don't advertise. I got enough hell from people for my height; I didn't wanna add fuel to the fire so to speak. I just figured, since you haven't been able to see yourself in so long, that you'd maybe like to see how you look now. Crappy stubble and all."

"Oi," John laughed, pinching Anders' side playfully, "I happen to know you _love_ my stubble." He carefully set the book down on the coffee table, playfully nuzzling into Anders' neck and kissing behind his ear. "And as I said, I love it darlin'."

"Oh really?" The god smirked, "How's about you show me just how much?"

The brunette laughed and stood up, throwing the smaller man over his shoulder and hauling him to their bedroom, much to the other's half-hearted protests. When they went out for dinner later that night with Anders' makeshift family, no one was sure they wanted to ask about the two gentleman's new jewelry choices, not with the frequent touches and intimate kisses they kept sharing. And if they both looked a little more doe-eyed than usual, no one was willing to comment on it. It had certainly been a very good holiday, for the both of them.

~ **FIN** ~ 

**Author's Note:**

> Second story, I hope it turned out alright.


End file.
